


Seems Kinda Sketchy

by StripedSunhat



Series: Waking Words [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Marinette copes way better with Damian being in danger than Damian does to her being in danger, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Oblivious Pining, romance novels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripedSunhat/pseuds/StripedSunhat
Summary: Marinette has a romance novel, Nathaniel has a crush, Joker has a blast, and Damian has a bad time.Anyone who’s ever said crushes can’t kill you hasn’t lived in Gotham.  Or Paris.A midquel to Every Morning as I Wake that was supposed to be about the Evillustrator before it spun wildly,wildlyout of control.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Series: Waking Words [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946038
Comments: 21
Kudos: 119





	Seems Kinda Sketchy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Guess what idiot decided to do their remix of Evillustrator at the same time zoe-oneesama is doing theirs?  
>  _This One!_  
>  However, mine does have 120% more Joker than theirs, so that's something going for it.
> 
> For anyone curious about where exactly to plunk this thing in the timeline, it's after Ladybug's told Chat about her soulmate but before she's told him about her crush and before they get burner phones. Which means so far Damian's only ever called once back when Hawkmoth first showed up.  
> The fucker.

Marinette was unaware of it when it started.

(You however, as the readership, are allowed to know because restraint is for losers and omniscience is fun.)

So.

It started one day at lunch. Usually Marinette would go home for lunch but her parents had a large, rather complicated order they’re working on. There were for the most part two types of larger orders:

  1. orders that are big but not too complicated. In which case she’ll go home during the lunch break and spend it making macarons or frosting flowers or sugar-coating fruit slices or anything else that she can do to lighten the load.
  2. orders that are obsessive time and concentration sinks where if you even breathe wrong everything’s ruined and you have to start all the way back over. In which case Marinette will pack or buy lunch and stay away from the bakery and out of their way.



Today was very much in the second vein. Normally that would mean hanging out with Alya but she’d needed to do some last-minute editing to her latest Ladybug video that she’d wanted to have out yesterday. Nino had asked – almost nervously, it was really strange – if she wanted to get lunch at a nearby café. But before they could get going he’d gotten a call from his dad and had to take a rain check. He’d been really disappointed about it too, like, more than expected. The café was one of Marinette’s favorites but she didn’t realize Nino liked it that much. ( **. . .** ) And Adrien had a fashion shoot. A private one, she’d checked.

So now Marinette was sitting on the front steps of the school with a sandwich and a book enjoying the sunshine and ~~reading~~ trying to read.

She made it all of three pages before she has to stop. She dropped it into her bag – mindful of Tikki – out of sight and very firmly out of mind.

She had her sandwich – not as good as the ones from the café but still good – she had the sunshine, she had a nice, stress-free lunchbreak so far uninterrupted by akumas… She was going to enjoy it.

…

…She should really at least try to keep reading, shouldn’t she?

Dammit.

It wasn’t like she _disliked_ the book. It was actually really well-written for a romance novel, drawing her in. Alya had ~~shoved it at her~~ loaned it to her and she was right, it was really good. Even if the description of the love interest with his constantly messy, tousled blond hair and his soft yet quick-to-turn-dangerous smile reminded her more of her partner than of Adrien. (And didn’t that kick up a whole bunch of thoughts that she was resolutely in no way thinking about) No, the problem was the villain, the heroine’s soulmate. Cold, controlling and overly formal with a short temper that would snap with no warning, he was subtly terrifying in every scene. Which was fine. _Except._ Except whenever the author started describing how he looked. Dark, pitch-black hair, carefully combed, and sharp, unforgiving features. Intense eyes above a stern mouth that never smiled. Tall, well-muscled, well-dressed and well-to-do. Devastatingly handsome and completely heartless.

And– _Look._

She’d figured out that Damian lived in Gotham a while ago. And there weren’t exactly a lot of Damians in Gotham. She’d had her freak out over _her_ Damian being Damian _Wayne,_ son of _Bruce freaking **Billionaire** Wayne._ Then she’d looked him up. And well–

She’d never forget what Damian looked like in that first picture she’d found. Dark, pitch black hair, carefully combed, and sharp, almost unforgiving features. Intense (and so very, _very_ green) eyes above a stern mouth that seemed to never smile.

And– **_Look._**

She didn’t cyber stalk Damian. She didn’t. But. Maybe she checked in on the Wayne family occasionally. _Occasionally._ It wasn’t _her_ fault they were famous.

_Anyway._

Bruce Wayne didn’t make the top of just about every eligible bachelor list for his money alone. He was tall, well-muscled, well-dressed and well-to-do. And Damian had already very clearly followed in his footsteps in the latter two categories and was starting to reach an age where it was becoming more and more apparent that he was starting to inch into the first two categories too.

And as for the last descriptor…

Okay _fine._ Marinette could admit it. Her soulmate was devastatingly handsome already and there was every indication he would only get hotter. He already rivaled Adrien and Adrien was a professional model for god’s sake! If Marinette hadn’t already come to the conclusion that she’d never be in love with him and if she didn’t already have Adrien she’d–

Well.

She did and she does so there’s no point in going down that way.

The point– the _point_ was that the book’s soulmate reminded her far too much of _her_ soulmate. So every time it described him being horrible it made her insides twist up into uncomfortable knots. And it didn’t help that the author liked to describe him constantly so there was no way to _forget_ how accidently much like Damian he was.

She should just tell Alya romance novels weren’t her thing. …Except that really wasn’t true, was it? Okay then she could just tell her she wasn’t a fan of this _particular_ one. That’d be fine, right? Except it was one of Alya’s absolute favorites and she’d loaned it to Marinette specifically because she thought Marinette would like it and it _was_ really good except for the _itty-bitty_ problem where Marinette kept picturing the **_absolute wrong people_** in the roles. It was fine. Fine. Marinette just needed to stop reading so much real-life context into it and just enjoy the story for what it was. She could do that.

Totally.

“Marinette?” Marinette blinked rapidly. Nathaniel stood a couple of steps below her. “Are you okay? You kinda stopped moving at all. Uh, for a while now.”

“Huh? I’m fine! I was just zoning out I guess.”

“What are you reading?”

“Huh?” She hadn’t even realized she’d pulled the book back out. But there it was. Open on her lap where she’d apparently been staring straight at it. “Oh. Nothing much, just some silly book,” she said closing it firmly. She swore this book was cursed.

Nathaniel leaned over to see the title. “Trappings of a Soul.” His head tilted as he took in the very *ahem* evocative cover art.

Marinette felt her face heat. At least it wasn’t Adrien who’d seen it. She’d have had to change her name and run away forever and live as a hermit and never be seen or heard from anyone ever again from embarrassment. “My mamé thought I might like it.” She felt a little bad about throwing her grandmother under the bus like that – not to mention _lying_ – but she couldn’t out Alya like that.

“I can let you get back to your reading if you want.”

“No please,” Marinette said, hastily scooching over to give him room to sit. She wasn’t putting off finishing the book if she was talking with Nathaniel. She was just being a good friend. So it was perfectly understandable if she ignored her book entirely for the rest of lunch. Good even. “I’d much rather talk to you.”

“O-Okay.” Nathaniel gave her a shy smile as he sat down next to her, tucking his bag between his feet and balancing his sketchbook on his knees. He hunched over it ever so slightly, trying to make himself smaller. Marinette didn’t even think he realized he was doing it. She gave him her biggest, friendliest smile and inched closer as soon as he was settled, not close enough to infringe on his space but enough to make it clear she wanted him sitting here with her.

“Not enjoying it as much as your grandma thought you might?”

“It’s… okay. I’m not wild about how the soulmate’s written.”

“It’s a soulmate romance?”

“Um,” Marinette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Kind of? I mean, not… really? It has soulmates but they’re not… he’s– the soulmate isn’t– he’s not the love interest.”

Nathaniel startled. “Really?” The sketchbook slid off Nathaniel’s knees. He scrambled to pick it back up, dropping it several times before he managed to get a handle on it. “I didn’t– I didn’t know you liked soulmate-nonsoulmate stories.” He looked at her like he’d never seen her before. Then suddenly his eyes dropped to his lap. “Unless that’s one of the things your grandma was wrong about?”

“Oh! Uh, no that’s not one of my problems with it. I mainly don’t like how it villainizes the soulmate.”

“So you don’t have a problem with a relationship with someone…” Nathaniel’s pen tapped nervously against his sketchbook. “Someone who has a soulmate?” (Y’all know what he’s really asking right? Because there’s omniscience and then there’s hand-holding and I trust you all to be smart enough to not need that. Marinette could probably use it but for a smart person she’s dumber than a brick when it comes to recognizing romantic intentions of pretty much any kind.)

“Not at all! Everyone has the right to fall in love with who they choose and that includes people with soulmates. And if they fall in love with their soulmate that’s great! But they shouldn’t be _expected_ to! And if they fall in love with someone who’s not their soulmate they should be allowed to do that too. It’s like as soon as you add in a soulmate _soo_ many people assume you _have_ to be secretly pining for them or if you’re not you’re a horrible, fickle person or worse, you’re _‘ungrateful’_ for the gift you’ve been given. It’s just– I want–” She cut herself off before she could start down a rant that would probably summon a half-dozen butterflies.

(Marinette, being her normal, _oh so observant_ self, failed entirely to notice Nathaniel staring at her. Or that his face was slowly but surely becoming the same color as his hair.)

“And this idea of some ‘mean scary evil soulmate’ just buys into all of that! ‘Oh of _course_ you don’t love them, they’re evil.’ ‘It’s _soo_ blindingly obvious that the universe got it wrong, of _course_ you don’t feel anything for them, they’re not a _real_ soulmate.’ **_No!_** They’re still your soulmate, you can still love them! They don’t have to be… be… **_lesser_** in order to justify your feelings for someone else!”

…And she’s talking too much about her own soulmate issues.

She was so thankful to the universe for Damian’s place in her life. (she’d be _more_ thankful if his place in her life was _bigger_ but a lifetime of Damian had taught her that Damian didn’t trust good things enough to share them with anyone, even himself.) She loved him more than just about anything else in the world. But the thought of being told she had to be in love with him was both laughable and insulting. And more importantly the thought of someone, anyone, trying to claim Damian was cruel or evil or, or underserving– well, it made her feel things that weren’t safe to feel in Paris.

All the emotional repression Hawkmoth forced on them was really doing a number, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to just go off on you like that. Guess I’ve got more feelings about it than I thought.”

Nathaniel was staring openly at her. His face was bright red and his eyes very wide. She must have really startled him. “You really think all that?”

Marinette took a deep breath. There would be no butterflies today thank you very much. “Yes,” she said firmly once she was sure she’d calmed down. “Not everyone has a soulmate. Most people don’t in fact. The universe looked at you and at them, and said, ‘you are each other’s match.’”

“A part of each other,” Nathaniel added quietly.

“Yes exactly. A part of you. And that has to mean _something._ But _you_ decide what it means. And just because you have a soulmate doesn’t mean there isn’t someone else who’s…” her mind flashed to Adrien. “…Perfect.”

She was doing it again, wasn’t she?

Dammit, she was. She was just rambling at Nathaniel instead of having a real two-person conversation like a real person. It was a good thing Nathaniel was so nice about it.

“But anyway,” She flapped her hand wildly as if she could physically wave away her thoughts about Damian and Adrien. “How are things with your soulmate? Helga, right?”

Nathaniel blinked a couple times rapidly. “Y-Yeah. I didn’t realize you knew her name.”

Marinette shrugged. “You don’t talk about her often but it’s not like you’ve never mentioned her.” Unlike her with Damian– and dammit! Focus Marinette. Focus! “She’s important to you. That makes her important.” She leaned back against the steps. “It’s really different having a soulmate who lives so far away compared to like Rose and Juleka who always have each other. Do the two talk often?”

“Yeah. We call each other once a week. She can talk for hours. We’ve gone on long enough that I’ve actually fallen asleep still on the phone with her more than once. Her voice is one of my favorite things in the world.

Marinette rocked forward, leaning towards Nathaniel and propping her chin on her hand. “You really love her, don’t you?”

“I don’t– Not like–” Nathaniel stuttered.

“I don’t mean in love!” Marinette said, surging forward to grip his shoulder to ground him before he hyperventilated and passed out. “You can love her without being **in** love with her.” Then her eyes caught on the open page of Nathaniel’s sketchbook. “Hey is that me?”

Marinette craned her neck to get a better view of the sketchbook. It was. It was an only half-completed sketch but it was very clearly her, sitting on the steps reading.

“Um…” Nathaniel stammered while trying to pull his sketchbook closer to his chest.

“Oh gosh! I’m so sorry! That’s so rude of me.” Nathaniel was still staring at her, sketchbook clutched close to his chest now. Marinette leaned as far back as she could, holding her hands up and back, open-palmed, trying to make it as clear as possible that she had no plans to try to grab it. “If you don’t want to show me that’s fine I shouldn’t have just stuck my nose in like that. I’m too curious for my own good sometimes…” she trailed off into nervous laughter.

Whelp. This entire conversation was a failure from start to finish. Could she please get a do-over? Please?

Nathaniel relaxed slightly. “It’s- It’s alright. You really want to see it?”

“Really?” Nathaniel almost never showed anyone his drawings. And certainly never while he was still working on them. “Yes please. But only if you want to show me.”

Some of the lines were still loose and undefined in places but the face was carefully detailed. She was staring down at her book, a tiny not-quite furrow of concentration. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and her nose was scrunched up the way she’d been told did when she was concentrating really hard.

“That’s so good!”

“You… you really think so?”

“Yeah! Absolutely! I could never do anything like that.” She tucked herself in close, leaning over Nathaniel’s shoulder to better see. “Will you show me some more?”

* * *

Damian was even less aware of it when it started than Marinette.

(In his defense he literally lived on an entirely different continent from the unfolding drama.)

Marinette greeted him that night with a greeting about having lunch with Nathaniel. She babbled happily about Nathaniel’s drawings and how good of an artist he was. _He showed me his work in progress drawing, which he never does and it was so interesting to watch him draw. He draws so quickly, within just a few minutes the entire drawing changes right before your eyes. He’s got this kind of comic-book style, really different from how you’ve described your style and it’s so expressive. His birthday’s coming up pretty soon I think, would it be a good idea to get him a new sketchbook? Or would that be too much? But his old one’s almost filled up and I can’t believe how much he draws, yeah a new sketchbook would definitely be a good gift. And maybe some new drawing pencils he’s only got the one._

Damian knew he should get back to patrol immediately. They couldn’t really afford Robin pulling back to start with. But instead he took several more seconds to pretend to still be listening, letting himself cling to the echoes of the happiness in her voice. Joker had broken out of Arkham an week ago and there was no sign of him anywhere. It was becoming increasingly clearer they wouldn’t find him any time soon. Todd was angry, lashing out at everything, Father was guilty and emotionally shut down because of it and Grayson was on edge trying to mediate between the two.

Gotham was a time bomb and only getting worse.

But with Marinette everything was alright in her world. His one good thing in the world was safe. No matter what happened in the coming days he could cling to that.

Eight days later and they were still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Joker had been popping up at random, smattering mayhem and terror seemingly wily-nily, apparently romping haphazardly through Gotham.

Six days ago armed thugs dressed in Joker’s gear broke into the Good Winks candy factory and tried to mix crates of razor blades into the chocolate. Four days ago the playground’s sprinklers went off, spraying acid. Three days ago five daycares were set on fire. Yesterday the public high school had a Smilex attack that left twelve hospitalized. Drake had been caught when it turned out there was a second, smaller canister of Smilex attached to the first one.

Right now the only common thread was going after children, which was never a good sign. Something was going to explode, and soon.

He had not expected for that something to be his school.

* * *

Marinette was, as previously stated, unaware of it when it started.

What she was aware of was that eight days after that conversation (not that she knew to count from there) Mlle. Mendeliev caught Nathaniel sketching in class. And when he tripped he lost his sketchbook, letting Chloé pick it up publicly rag on the comic he was working on. The comic where he was a superhero and Marinette was in love with him.

Huh.

It looked like Nathaniel might have a crush on her.

When did that happen? ( **. . .** )

Any thoughts about Nathaniel get pushed to the side rather quickly when she gets paired with Chloé and Sabrina for their science project. Followed quickly by the crystallization of the fact that Chloé doesn’t treat Sabrina like a friend, or even a person, so much as a walking, talking homework machine and generalized chore gofer.

Only friend? Seriously? How long had Chloé been feeding that poison to Sabrina for? Was _that_ why she never hung out with the rest of the class?

There were moments – not many but definitely _there_ – when she had to agree with Damian’s assessment that most of the world simply wasn’t worth it. This was one of those.

Calling out Chloé (again) would just cause (another) confrontation and wouldn’t help Sabrina. If all it took for Sabrina to think they were ‘new best friends’ was Marinette standing up for her and showing basic human decency, then she could work with that. They’d use Sabrina’s plan: do the project just the two of them, reveal Chloé did none of the work, get Sabrina new, better friends.

* * *

It started just after nine o’clock. Damian is in English class, ignoring his teacher as he butchered the symbolism in Watership Down when the PA system let out an ungodly, ear-shattering shriek.

**_“Hey there Kiddies! Your Uncle J is here to take you all on a little field trip. I hope everyone wore sensible footwear because we’re going bird hunting!”_ **

Mr. Erikson had already put his book down and gotten the rest of the class gathered up in two tightly packed lines away from windows. “Mr. Wayne,” He said, motioning sharply for Damian. “You too.”

Damian bit back a curse, hit the panic button on his phone and went to join his classmates. He’d have to find a way to sneak away later.

**_“Now, some of you might be saying ‘But Uncle J, I don’t want to go on a field trip!’ Well have no fear! I’ve planned for that too! After all, I’m a firm believer that all youth of Gotham needs is a little… motivation.”_ **

And that was when the first of the bombs went off.

The classroom shook. A muffled boom could be heard from the direction of the gym. When Damian craned his neck towards the window he could see flames before he was pulled back.

 ** _“Chop chop everyone. To the buses. We’ve got a tight schedule to keep! Let’s blow this pop stand before it blows! Again! HahaHahAHaHAhahAha!!”_** Joker devolved into his trademark deranged laughter.

Yasmin started crying. Pierce crouched on the floor, rocking back and forth. _“shit shit shit shit shit…”_

“Fuck. What does Joker want with _us?”_

“Does that mean there’s more bombs?”

“Everyone!” Mr. Erikson called, loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Calm down! Get back in your lines; we’re going to follow emergency procedure. Just like the drills. I’m sure Batman and the police are already on their way. Everything will be fine.” Slowly the class reassembled and started moving.

Emergency procedure at Gotham Prep was actually multiple procedures depending on the situation, much like any emergency plan of worth in Gotham. If they were evacuating the school they’d go to the buses, which was not going to happen since that’s where Joker wanted them. If they couldn’t evacuate, they would go to the gym, which was currently on fire. That made the next step the Tranquility Garden and then down the underground escape tunnels.

Damian’s class was next door to the garden so they were one of the first to arrive. Mr. Erikson went over to open the hatch that hid the stairs down while other classes trickled in, led by panic-eyed teachers. Damian drummed his fingers against his leg. He was useless trapped in the middle of the student body like this. He pushed his way out of the horde of students over to the stairs.

“Damian, go back with the rest of the class.” Damian ignored him. Mr. Erikson grabbed his arm and hauled him up. “ _Damian._ Go back–” The fountain exploded.

Students were thrown forward as the ground broke apart underneath them. Smoke filled the air. People started screaming. Panic swept through and within seconds the carefully ordered students had become terrified mob. Mr. Erikson’s hand disappeared from his arm as the screams grew more frantic.

Damian slipped back down the stairs to the door to the tunnels. The explosion had been more noise and flash than actual power. Contrary to what his siblings no doubt believed of him he did not relish the emotional damages he would be inflicting upon his teacher. Mr. Erikson was in intellectually deficient educator who was in no way remotely qualified in the subject he professed to teach but he did genuinely care about his charges and he in no way deserved to believe he’d lost one of students during a Joker attack, even temporarily. So no, he took no joy in it. However the necessity of Robin outweighed that right now. There was no way that was the last of the explosions and he needed to put an end to this before there was any damage they wouldn’t be able to fix.

He threw open the door.

Inside was a cuckoo clock. It chimed twelve and a small robin popped out of the door.

_“…Shit.”_

He threw the door closed just in time for the clock to explode. This one was **not** all noise and flash.

He slammed hard against the far wall. There was a familiar, sickening pop of a shoulder dislocating. Something crunched. Dusk streamed down from the ceiling, blinding him.

Damian clamored to his feet. Blood dripped down his wrist. His right shoulder throbbed.

When the dust finally settled enough to see he still couldn’t. The explosion had either closed or blocked off the hatch. He was trapped.

When he was trying to come up with a way to get away from his class this is not what he had in mind.

First things first, he needed to reset shoulder. Then see if he could get the door to the tunnels opened. He forced back a wince as he grabbed his own shoulder and wrenched it back into place. He’d always hated resetting dislocated joints. Revealing any of the discomfort from it while he was still living under Grandfather would have ended… badly, and his brother’s seemed to believe he was some sort of robot because of how little he reacted which was always useful, but still. They were always going to be his least favorite non-grievous injury.

Once that was done he reached for his phone. He could use the light to study the door. His fingers connected with a handful of plastic shards and circuit board fragments. So that was what had crunched.

Apparently he’d be opening the door by touch.

The blast had warped the door, making it relatively simple to grip onto part of the edge and pull it loose. Beyond it the hallway stretched out before him, a contortion of the black void he was already standing in.

He pulled out a knife, set his bad hand against the wall and started walking.

The emergency tunnels were a part of old Gotham that the school had decided to utilize rather than block off. As a result they twisted and meandered with no set plan and a great deal of dead ends. There were supposed to be strips of lights illuminating the official exit path. Damian was in no way surprised to see them dismantled.

He made it three turns when he saw a light around the next corner.

Damian raised his knife to attack. The light went out with a flurry of not-so-hushed whispers and shuffling. Clearly Joker had hired idiots. But he was out of uniform and so would have to strike quickly.

He launched himself around the corner, hitting the first body in the chest.

“What the–”

“Holy Shit!”

“The Fuck!?”

A cellphone flashlight lit up the alcove.

Damian quickly tucked his knife out of sight.

It wasn’t Joker’s hired idiots.

“Did that kid have a knife?”

It was civilian idiots.

“You are _so_ tripping right now dude.”

There were five students, three boys and two girls, all roughly seventeen or eighteen years old. Their uniforms were all in some state of intentional disarray and they were staring at Damian with eyes that were far too wide and blinking far too often to be completely lucid. On the ground between them was a scattering of various drug paraphernalia. The one Damian had tackled stared vacantly up at him from where he’d fallen to the floor in a boneless sprawl. “Fuck dude. Kid’s got some moves.”

“Does the kid look familiar to you?”

“He does!”

“Yeah but from where?”

“Hey!” One of the girls – the one whose skirt was rolled until it barely covered anything and whose tights were ripped in no fewer than seven places – cried, “I know who it is! It’s the baby Wayne!” Damian scowled at her.

“Holy shit you’re right!”

“What are you doing down here baby Wayne?” one of the boys – the tall one with the acne problem and the missing tie – said. He wiggled a rolled joint of questionable origins between his fingers. “Came to join the fun?”

Damian stared at the collected group. He was going to have to be responsible for bringing them to safety before he could join the hunt for Joker. And he still hadn’t had a chance to get his uniform or any more of his weapons.

He hated everything.

“I got caught in an explosion and trapped down here. I presume it would be an exercise in the obvious.”

The second girl blinked. “Did you say explosion?” She swiped the joint from the boy’s fingers and leaned back against the wall. “Was that what those sounds were?”

“Joker attacked the school,” said slowly. Maybe that would penetrate their drug-fueled brains enough to get them moving.

The one Damian tackled scrambled to his feet. “Wait. Wait wait wait! Joker got out?! When did that happen?!”

Damian turned and stared.

The final and least visibly high student stepped in front of him. “I’m sorry about Tyler,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “He just took a pretty big hit of China Cat. He knew Joker was on the loose, I swear. Actually, that was kinda why he suggested doing this in the first place. Take our minds off it, you know?”

“I sincerely hope you don’t actually believe that counts as a justifiable reasoning for your actions.”

The boy stared blankly at him. “What?”

“Of course you do.” Damian bit back a sigh. It wasn’t that he hated humanity. But moments like this made him seriously question the point of it by and large. “Fine. You appear to be the least cognizantly compromised of your… group.”

“…Thank… you?”

“I’ll get us all to safety. You’re in charge of keeping everyone together and under control.” Not waiting for an answer Damian spun on his heel and started walking.

“Wait, what?”

* * *

So. Amendment to the plan. It turned out Sabrina could be bribed with hats.

_Hats._

Speaking of hats, why was Chloé getting attacked by hats?

Why was it raining hats inside the library??

And a giant… hair… dryer… That was an akuma.

And they’d had such a good two-day streak going before this.

* * *

Fifty-five minutes.

They’d been walking these tunnels for more than fifty-five minutes.

And the rest of these imbeciles had not stopped talking the. _Entire. Time._

Damian was going to stab someone.

“So.” A figure came up beside him. It was the acne-stricken one. Damian’s defacto second-in-command was trying the halfwit on China Cat there was no alligator, friendly or otherwise, and the girls were debating banalities with each other. “Did you know you’re bleeding?”

“I am aware.”

“You’re not going to like, bleed out on me or anything, are you?”

Damian had come to a decision on who he was going to stab.

“I am not going bleed out from a scratch.”

“Look dude, my mom works for your dad and I don’t want her getting fired because you got hurt and somehow I should have stopped it.”

“Father would be aware that my actions were my own and that any consequences of them were of my own doing. He wouldn’t go after your mother because of them. And regardless, I sincerely doubt _you_ would be in any way capable of preventing harm to yourself, let alone someone else.”

“Stuck up little shit. You think you’re so much better than us?”

“I’m not the one high in the middle of a Joker attack.”

“What the fuck do you know, you’re what, twelve?”

“I’m fourteen.”

“Really? When did that happen?”

“Considering you believed I was twelve, two years ago.”

“Huh.” The boy, apparently been sufficiently distracted from his original line of questioning, fell back and got sucked into the girls’ conversation.

At least they were finally approaching the exit. Damian could foist them off on the police or if there weren’t any the nearest good Samaritan and then _finally_ go do his job.

There was a second clock sitting in the doorway, facing the door.

Damian ground to a halt. The cluster of juvenile delinquents following him didn’t stop fast enough and crashed into him and each other. Damian’s appointed assistant disentangled himself from the knot of flailing limbs and came up next to him. “A cuckoo clock? What the hell’s that doing down here?”

The confused pile behind them spat out the second girl. “Awww…” She clambered to her feet, reaching out to touch the clock. “It’s so cute!” 

“Uh, Anaya? I’m not so sure that’s a good idea…”

Damian grabbed her hand before she could reach it. “Do not touch that.”

“And why not?” she demanded.

“Because the cuckoo clock that had been sitting at the other door had been attached to a bomb.”

The girl snatched her hand back. “Okay.” Damian’s assistant said, getting his friends’ attention. “The first thing we need to do is not touch anything,” he continued, proving yet again to be the only one of the five of them currently in possession of any faculties. “What’s the next closest exit?”

“Given that the first clock I encountered was themed with a _Robin,_ I think it’s safe to assume Joker wouldn’t have stopped at only two entrances.

“Fuck.”

“H–h–how many bombs do you think there are?”

“A lot.”

“Fuck. Alright, we’re close to the door. Is anyone’s phone’s getting a signal? Anyone? Please?”

Before anyone could say anything else the clock started chiming twelve.

“Wha–”

“Run!”

There was no door blocking the explosion this time.

The world flipped on its axis, gravity giving way to a brief, terrifying barrage of heat and force and pain. He landed hard on his already injured shoulder, his entire arm lighting up in agony. Everything was muffled, the world ringing and oddly bright. Concussion.

_“aHahahAhaHAhA!!”_

A silhouette appeared in the smoke.

“Too slow Birdy-boo!” Joker’s disembodied voice cackled. “Having some trouble without daddy? Now,” a gloved hand reached out, “which kiddo did I get?” Damian lashed out with his knife. He hit the hand only for his knife to get stuck. Enough of the smoke dissipated to reveal a pantograph in place of an arm. “Bad bird! Someone needs to teach you a lesson.” Damian leapt back narrowly avoiding a spray of acid. The world lurched as he landed and he tripped. A hand grabbed his arm, steadying him and pulling him back.

 _“what the fuck are you doing?”_ the smart one hissed. Damian tried to plant himself in front of the others. He’d lost his weapon but he was still lethally trained. The older boy yanked Damian behind him. _“stay **back.”**_

The last of the smoke faded away. Joker leaned forward with a rictus grin. “Lookie here! A whole gaggle of the future of Gotham!” The other boy scrambled away pushing Damian back with him. “And in the middle–” Joker reached forward grabbing for them. Damian darted out, kicking at his legs. “What the–? A Wayne? How’d _you_ get in here?”

He held out Damian’s knife, waggling it between his fingers. “I suppose this is yours?” In a single smooth motion he flipped it into his hand. The blade flashed in the dim light as he stalked forward. “I had been hoping for one Batsy’s little baby birds. But I suppose fatcat Brucie Wayne’s most feral kitten will do for now.”

Damian slid into a grounded fighting position. His arm refused to respond properly and his balance was still shot. This was not going to be an easy fight.

_“REMEMBER THE RASIN!!”_

Something crashed into Joker’s side.

Damian stared as screaming boy tackled Joker, sending them hurtling to the side. What the…

“Get off me!” Joker yelled, chucking the boy away. The swung the knife wildly.

There was no time. Damian threw himself forward, stripping off his jacket and wrapping it around his arm. He flung his arm between the knife and the other boy’s neck.

For the second time the knife got stuck.

Joker’s face warped into confusion. A shadow moved in the destroyed entryway of the tunnel. Damian shifted back, drawing Joker’s attention to him.

A foot came screaming toward Joker’s face. Joker dropped like a sack of bricks.

Nightwing landed with a small flourish. He nudged Joker with his foot. Joker didn’t move. “Huh,” he said, pulling out restraints. “It’s not usually that easy.”

“Are you _complaining?”_ one of the girl’s demanded in a shrill, half-strangled shriek.

“Everyone okay?”

“Baby Wayne’s got a knife sticking out of his arm.”

“Shit. You’re definitely bleeding now.”

Damian gritted his teeth. _“I. Am. **Aware.** ”_ Nightwing raised an eyebrow at him. Damian glared back. “It was take a knife to the arm or let the idiot who’d tackled him take a knife to the neck. Nightwing’s gaze shifted to the drug-addled boy laying on the ground giggling. He shifted back to Damian.

“Hey B,” he chirped, switching to his comm, “I’ve got Joker. I also found the missing students. Yep, all six of them. Funny story actually,” Nightwing finished securing Joker and flashed Damian a smirk. “One of them was in the middle of tackling the Joker.”

His brother was an ass.

Batman appeared only seconds later. His first move was to check that Joker was secure, which was to be expected. What wasn’t expected was after on a second to visually check he turned his attention to Damian. Even through the mask Damian could feel his father’s disapproving gaze. “Tackling the Joker.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Then who–”

_“FUCK YEAH!!”_

“Tyler that’s not…”

_“I AM THE MAN!!! JOKER CAN KISS IT!!!!”_

“Tyler, please stop.”

* * *

So. They lost track of the Evillustrator. Which meant they needed to sweep the city. They found no sign of him. Which meant they needed to go talk to the Evillustrator’s target.

Who was Chloé.

Ladybug would rather have a mental breakdown in a butterfly garden.

_Suck it up Dupain-Cheng. You’re Ladybug. You have a job to do._

There were days she really hated her life.

She and Chat made it halfway to Chloé’s home when her communicator started buzzing. But Chat was right next to her and no one else had any way to contact this number. Heck she didn’t even know whether her yoyo _had_ a number or if it was just magically connected to Chat’s baton. Then what else–

Ladybug opened the screen. It was a news article from the Gotham Gazette.

Oh.

This was not how she wanted to test whether her communicator would push through news she’d marked as important enough to know about right as it happened.

She stopped and clicked on the article.

The first thing she saw was a picture of Gotham Prep on fire.

Marinette’s legs gave out from under her.

There was a second picture of Nightwing and Batman hauling a cuffed Joker away. The article below it said that Joker had attacked the school because – well no one was really sure but it was Joker it was entirely possible he’d had a giant master plan and equally possible he had absolutely no reasoning beyond it sounded fun. All of the students and faculty were safe and accounted for. Which was especially important since…

Since Wayne Industries heir Damian Wayne, along with five other students, had only recently been found after being missing for more than an hour.

“Ladybug?”

“Wuaugh!” Marinette scrambled for the yoyo, pressing it to her chest. Chat was perched on a nearby railing of a roof. Oh. Right. She’d stopped moving. They were supposed to be going to Chloé’s.

Chat’s tail lashed back and forth in worry. “Are you alright?”

A little further down was a smaller of Damian glaring at a paramedic, shock blanket wrapped begrudgingly around his shoulders. Spoiler stood in the background, leaning against a police car, chatting with a cop. Marinette took a moment to breathe. He was fine. It was nothing to worry about. He’d probably never even been in any real danger at all. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

He was fine. He was fine he was fine he was _fine._ And out in the open was not a safe place to freak out over might-have-beens.

“My Lady?” Chat hopped down from the railing and stepped a few careful steps closer. 

Marinette rolled her shoulders and pushed it out of her mind to deal with later. She was Ladybug. Ladybug couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“Ladybug?”

“My soulmate’s school got attacked by a supervillain.”

Chat jumped forward. “What? Really?” After a few steps he pulled himself to a halt. He kept his hands up and back, open-palmed, making it as clear that he had no plans to try to see what she was looking at. It reminded her of lunch last week with Nathaniel. 

Nathaniel. There was another thing she needed to deal with at some point.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. “No. It’s– Fine.” It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t remotely fine. But it was what life in Gotham _was_ so she’d deal with it, the same way she’d been dealing with it for years. “He’s safe, everyone’s safe, local heroes have it handled. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow morning.” She’d have to make it explicitly clear that she’d seen the news of his disappearance otherwise it was guaranteed he wouldn’t mention it at _all._

“Come on Chat.” Ladybug snapped her yoyo closed. Chat looked skeptical but ultimately fell into step beside her, trusting her judgement. “We’ve got our own supervillain to deal with.”

“But first, Chloé.”

“Right.” Personally, she wasn’t sure Chloé wasn’t more deserving of the title.

* * *

Spoiler was waiting near a small knot of ambulances and police cars.

“Your arm okay?” she asked, falling into step beside him as he approached.

“I redislocated my shoulder.”

“You _redislocated_ it. Well _you_ had a fun time today. Joker got the rest of the students and faculty onto the busses and ‘politely’ informed Batman it was to be a mano a mano fight and that there’d be a ‘busload of problems for every baby bird he saw’. So we had to hang back. Nightwing got the job of sweeping the school for you and the others.” She met his eye and glanced pointedly once behind him. Damian snatched a shock blanket out of the hands of a jumpy paramedic, wrapping it around his shoulders, holding it closed with his left hand. Spoiler tugged it up, better hiding his blood-stained hand. Satisfied she walked a few steps off and started chatting at a nearby rookie cop,

The paramedic hesitantly slid closer. “Sir, if you’d sit down we need to take a look at–”

“Damian! Look this way!” A camera flashed. Damian turned and scowled at Brendan Nash. The paparazzi didn’t even flinch, lining up a second shot. Spoiler’s hand blocked the lens before he got a chance.

“Mr. Nash. I hope you’re not breaking police lines and taking pictures of minors in the aftermath of a crisis when they’re supposed to be protected. Again.”

“Hey, I’m just doing my job. The people have a right to know what’s going on.” Nash tried to pull his camera out of her grasp. In response Spoiler yanked it away entirely.

“Nash, I want you to repeat after me. The six missing students were found, safe and unharmed.”

“I have a–”

“All six were found. _Safe. And unharmed.”_ Her smile sharpened, becoming dangerous. “Do we understand each other?”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

“Good.” She shoved the camera into his gut. “Now go run along to the Gotham Gazette and tell them you have some photos for them.” Nash shifted on his feet for a second, weighing his greed against the threat of Spoiler’s presence then scurried away. “What a little creep,” she muttered, watching him go. When he’d vanished entirely she turned back to Damian. “Go get patched up then I’ll escort you home.”

“You can’t just take him home. He needs go to the hospital. And he hasn’t been released yet.”

Spoiler blinked at the rookie she’d forgotten about. “You’re new to Gotham, aren’t you?”

“I just transferred in from Keystone.”

Spoiler leaned back against the squad car and tilted her head in consideration. “Yeah, I can see it.” She turned back to Damian. “You. Go get checked out. I’m not taking you home until your arm’s reset and wrapped.”

Spoiler waited until the cop had wandered off and Damian’s arm had been seen to before she spoke again. “Hey, so while you were down there, did anything happen with your phone?”

Damian’s gaze sharpened on her. She was propped against the edge of the ambulance door, body language carefully constructed to look carefree and bored. “Why?”

“Just curious. No one could reach you.”

Damian glared for several more seconds. Spoiler didn’t budge. “It was destroyed in the first explosion I was caught in.”

“That explains it. Wait, _first_ explosion? Exactly how many of those explosions were you caught in today?”

“Two.”

“Bull. Try again.”

“Define caught.”

“And that alone tells me everything I need to know.” She shifted, listening to her comm and winced at whatever was being said. She covered it, but not quickly, enough turning back to Damian. “You ready? Nightwing’s got the Batmobile waiting and ready to go around the corner.”

“What. Happened.”

“I’ll tell you in the car, come one.”

Damian didn’t move. _“What. **Happened.** ”_

“I hate my life,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands. “Alright, fine. The akuma that attacked the mayor’s daughter up a couple hours ago reappeared. You want more information than that you’re going to have to wait until you’re ho–” Damian took off. “Hey wait up!”

* * *

Marinette’s problems as of 18:18

    -Nathaniel’s apparently got a crush on her and she needed to decide what to do with that.  
-An akuma was after Chloé – _Again._ Surprise, surprise.  
-Chloé was being super clingy to Ladybug and even more of a b– _witch_ to Marinette than normal.  
-Marinette might have kind-of sort-of just-a-little let her feelings get in the way of her job as Ladybug because of it.  
-Damian’s school had been attacked.  
-She’d forgotten about the project with Sabrina, who was now blowing up her phone with eighteen thousand messages and missed calls.  
-Damian, by contrast, was continuing to pretend that he had no way to contact her other than their bond.  
-There was still an akuma out there somewhere.

Marinette’s problems as of 18:19

    -Nathaniel’s apparently got a crush on her and she needed to decide what to do with that.  
-An akuma was after Chloé – _Again._ Surprise, surprise.  
-Chloé was being super clingy to Ladybug and even more of a b– _witch_ to Marinette than normal.  
-Marinette might have kind-of sort-of just-a-little let her feelings get in the way of her job as Ladybug because of it.  
-Damian’s school had been attacked.  
-She’d forgotten about the project with Sabrina, who was now blowing up her phone with eighteen thousand messages and missed calls.  
-Damian, by contrast, was continuing to pretend that he had no way to contact her other than their bond.  
-THE AKUMA WAS CRAWLING THROUGH HER WINDOW TO KIDNAP AND OR ATTACK HER.

“Are you… going to hurt me?”

“You? You’re Marinette. You’re beautiful and sweet and perfect and I could never hurt you.”

…Okay. Reassessment. The akuma… liked her?

“So I just came by to ask you, if uh… well. It’s my birthday today and uh… Would you want to come to my party?”

Okay, it was a kidnapping. Possibly.

Maybe she could just politely say no thank you?

“Oh, um… actually… It’s not really the best night. See I’ve got a presentation to work on and I have to call my… friend… so we can meet…”

“Please Marinette. It’ll just be you and me.”

Definitely a kidnapping.

The Evillustrator dropped down to one knee like the hero in her romance novel and held out… a card? With a drawing on it?

A drawing of… “Oh my gosh… That’s…” Marinette knew she should be worried or upset or coming up with a plan to get out of this, “me.” But it was so sweet, and almost romantic.

Except for the akumatized by a supervillain and currently a supervillain himself part.

She studied the card again when suddenly she was hit with the realization that she _knew_ this art style.

Well it looked like she’d have to deal with Nathaniel’s crush sooner than expected.

“You like it?” The Evillustrator was smiling up at her, still kneeling at her feet like a romantic hero, face open and eager. Almost like he didn’t have the power to create whatever he wanted out of thin air and that this whole situation could turn dangerous in the blink of an eye if he wasn’t humored.

“I…” Time to think like Ladybug. Time to come up with a plan. “Love it. So much that I will absolutely be at your party. On one condition.”

“Anything for you Marinette.”

Well this was going surprisingly smoothly. Alright, time to take her gamble.

“You can’t hurt Chloé anymore.” If this worked it would be at least one problem taken care of. She clutched her notebook to her chest and said, “I simply cannot bear violence,” maybe just a _biit_ overdramatically but she needed to sell this.

“For you and only you,” the Evillustrator said, rising to his feet. Oh thank goodness that worked. “Meet you at the left bank, next to Notre Dame. At sunset.” As he spoke he drew up a jetpack and flew away out her window. Nice little reminder that he could draw up anything.

“What are you thinking Marinette?”

“I’m thinking poor Nathaniel’s got a crush on me. And his alter ego the Evillustrator’s gonna get crushed by Ladybug.”

“Yes but how exactly is Ladybug going to crush this crush when… you’re going on a date with him as Marinette?”

“Maybe some cool cat needs to crash the party.”

* * *

Tim was sitting in front of the screens monitoring Paris. “Marinette’s fine,” he said as soon as they stepped out of the car.

It was only a few feet from the car to that corner of the cave. Damian took it at a sprint. “What happened. Something had to have happened for that to be the very first thing you say.” Half the screens were flipping through various angles of Paris. Four were looping grainy footage of the Ladybug and Chat Noir fighting the what had to be the akuma in the library. The rest were showing various angles of Le Grand Paris.

“That was the first thing I said because that’s the first thing you always care about with an akuma attack.” Tim rolled his eyes and got up from the seat, shoving Damian at it. “His name’s the Evillustrator. Looks like his power source is his pen. Whatever he draws becomes real.” He looked over Damian’s head at Dick. “Jason’s on his way.”

“Good,” Dick said.

Damian reached for the keyboard. Tim swatted him away. “Sit.”

Damian kept pushing forward. “What happened that requires Todd.”

“He’s the best at lip-reading.” Tim pushed him harder into the chair. **“Sit.”**

“Tell me what you’re hiding before I go through you.”

With an exhausted sigh, Tim tapped a command into the keypad. Two of the screens changed, showing the Evillustrator rocketing out of Marinette’s window and the Evillustrator climbing into it.

Damian shot out of the chair. _“WHAT!!”_

* * *

Ladybug loved her partner, yes she did.

He was the most understanding, best partner ever. She _knew_ she was pushing things, not telling him what was really going on and at least in his perspective bailing on him with no explanation why but her kitty didn’t push. He trusted her.

Besides, this would just be a one-time thing. One specific akuma where she _couldn’t_ explain things, then back to their normal, fully-equal information sharing.

Totally.

* * *

“YOU ARE NOT FLYING TO PARIS!”

“GET OUT OF MY WAY DRAKE!”

“DAMI YOU’RE GOING TO HURT YOURSELF!”

“AN AKUMA BROKE INTO MARINETTE’S _BEDROOM!”_

“WILL EVERYBODY JUST CALM DOWN!”

“YOU GET OUT OF MY WAY TOO BROWN!”

* * *

So. It turned out that while Sabrina could be bribed with hats, she wouldn’t believe you when you told her you were being menaced by an akuma.

“Humph! Everyone _saw_ the Evillustrator attack _Chloé_ in the library. Not you. You’re just lying to get out of doing your half of the work! I’m beginning to see just how similar the two of you are.”

Marinette really had no idea how to respond to that.

* * *

“Jason! Stop him!”

“Todd. I’m commandeering your motorcycle.”

“You can’t drive a motorcycle to Paris! There’s an ocean in the way in case you forgot!”

“I can drive it to an airfield.”

* * *

Did Chat Noir really just meet her at her door with a cat pun and a kiss to the hand?

Really?

Her kitty was such a dork.

She was tempted to mock him as he started reassuring poor hapless civilian Marinette. Okay, maybe she did just a little when started flexing.

 _Such_ a dork.

“But I am going to need a little help. Care to assist a superhero?”

“What about Ladybug. Aren’t you and her a duo?” She felt a little guilty about that. First she ditched Chat then she used her own civilian identity to ask him about herself. It just… slipped out.

“She’s busy with something tonight. So…you get to be my Ladybug today.”

Guilt gone. She might have laid the ‘oh little old me? _I_ get to help a real-life superhero?’ thing on a little thick.

Then Chat had to go and drop the posturing and _smile_ at her. It wasn’t even his civilian and recently freed akuma victim smile. It was the soft, trusting, ready-to-dive through fire smile that he’d give Ladybug.

“Don’t worry. You can do this. There’s no one I would trust with this more.”

“Because I’m who Evillustrator is focused on?” she asked, frantically trying to steer them back to something safer than that smile. A nervous giggle welled up in her throat.

Chat reached for her hand again. He didn’t kiss it this time, instead just held it. That seemed way more dangerous. “Because you’re one of the bravest, smartest people I know.”

“R-really?”

“Absolutely. You just need to keep Evillustrator’s attention. I’ll take care of the rest.” His soft smile gained a dangerous edge – not dangerous to her but towards anyone who came after her. Just like handsome and daring Blaine Sartre would do for the fiery Lady Victoria– And Nope!

Nope Nope! **Not** going there!

“I’ll be just out of sight the whole time.”

“Huh?” Marinette blinked. Had his smile always been that bright? Or his eyes so bright?

Chat’s smile softened again. “Go get ready for your date Princess. Just remember, no matter what happens, I’ll be there with you.” He kissed her hand a second time, this time much less theatrically, then jumped out of sight, tousled blond hair, glowing golden in the dying light.

Oooh no.

Oh no no no no no.

Alya was a horrible person for lending her that book. Horrible. It had planted ideas in Marinette’s head that never would have been there otherwise.

Never.

* * *

“Trouble socializing with others, disproportionate responses to emotional triggers. This boy shouldn’t be allowed near anyone. He should never have been allowed around Marinette in the first place.”

“So he’s shy and has some impulse control issues when he’s mad,” Dick said with a shrug. That’s hardly grounds for worry. If he was decked out Gotham-style ranting about how he’ll soon take his place in the criminal underground then it would be something to look at but he’s not. He’s an akuma, who can be literally anyone who has a bad day.”

“He got kicked out of his old class thanks to a violent incident!”

Dick bit back a long sigh. “No. What _happened_ is that Collège Françoise Dupont has the worst anti-bullying policy ever and he reacted badly. Yes, it was… disproportionate. But it was hardly evil incarnate. And the violent part came when the other student tackled him.”

“He still shouldn’t be around Marinette. We could get him removed from Collège Françoise Dupont entirely.”

“You’re not destroying a boy’s life because he has a crush on your soulmate,” Bruce said, appearing out of the shadows.

“We wouldn’t destroy it. It could be a career boost for both his parents.”

“Just on the other side of the world,” Jason added.”

“No.”

“We’ll save that for someone who really deserves it,” Steph said, draping herself over his shoulder. She danced away laughing when Damian tried to stab her with a throwing knife.

“Like Chloé?” Jason asked.

“Oracle and I already thought about that,” Tim said. “We could arrange for her to be sent to her mother but there’s no guarantee she wouldn’t immediately send her back like unwanted luggage.” His shoulders went stiff and tense as he spoke. He took a moment to force them down then powered through. “And there’s no way we’re prying her father out of the city without first getting him out of office.”

“We are not ousting a duly elected official of a foreign nation no matter how awful his daughter is.”

“Hey! Chat Noir’s here!”

“Do you really think that reprobate’s enough protection for her?”

“Is he flexing?”

“That's it!” Damian said shooting out of the chair again.

“It would take hours to fly to Paris. You wouldn’t make it there anywhere close to in time.”

“Then I’ll teleport there!”

“We don’t have a teleporter in the cave anymore.”

“There’s one in the Watchtower!”

Jason squinted at the screen. “Holy shit.” He sat back with a laugh. “Kid’s smarter than he looks.”

 _“What!!!!”_ Damian screeched. “He’s supposed to be _protecting_ Marinette and instead he’s flexing and showing off his non-existent muscles!!!”

“Hate to break it to you but those muscles are _not_ non-existent.”

“He’s not posing,” Bruce said, leaning forward. “He’s checking for threats. Look at his eyes” Tim helpfully looped the conversation back a few seconds on another screen and zoomed in. Sure enough Chat’s eyes were narrowed every-so-slightly in concentration, scanning the area. “His technique’s rudimentary at best and most of his strategy relies on people believing him to just be Ladybug’s muscle and not looking any further but it’s fairly clever for someone whose been fighting for as short a period of time as he and his partner have.”

“He might also be multitasking and also showing off for Marinette.”

“If he is it’s not working,” Tim said, pointing to where Marinette was mocking Chat Noir behind his back.

“You sure about that?” Dick asked. He nodded to the monitor that was showing real-time where Marinette was very much blushing.

(It should be noted that when Batman arrived from seeing Joker back to his cell Jason didn’t storm out or pick a fight. Instead he offered him some popcorn This is, objectively speaking, the fastest Jason and Bruce have ever patched things up following a Joker break-out. Which means that technically Marinette’s akuma date/kidnapping is, _objectively speaking,_ a good thing for the Batfam. But no one is stupid enough to say that out loud. Especially when Damian is gripping his sword in what can only be described as impotent, barely leashed rage.)

* * *

“Hey.” Marinette gave a little wave, feeling supremely awkward.

“Marinette!” The Evillustrator hopped down from his perch, crowding eagerly into her space. “You came!”

“O-Of course! Wouldn’t have missed it! Oh! Before I forget.” She dug around in the oversize purse she’d brought with her. “Here,” she said, pulling out the new sketchbook she’d bought a few days ago.

“You… You brought me a present?”

“Of course I did. What kind of guest would I be if I didn’t bring you a birthday present?”

The Evillustrator stared down at the book. He curled it close to his chest, stoking his fingers along its spine. “Thank you.”

Marinette spun, taking in the scene Nathaniel had conjured and trying to discreetly spot Chat Noir. “Wow it’s beautiful.”

“You think so? Well hold on, because I’m just getting started.”

* * *

“Where is Ladybug?”

“I’m sure she has a perfectly valid reason why she’s not present.”

“She’s magic. For all we know she is there just not visible.”

“If that were true why isn’t Chat Noir similarly invisible?”

“Moral support for Marinette?”

On screen Chat Noir slipped up and the Evillustrator took notice of his tail.

“That’s it!” Damian threw himself out of his seat. He grabbed a tablet and set it running the surveillance program so he’d still know what was going on and stormed in the direction of the disassembled teleportation tube to the Watchtower. “Father you can escort me to the Watchtower or I can break in!”

“You’re injured!” Steph called.

“I’m fine.”

“You equivocated how many explosions you were caught in! And not even well!”

Bruce blocked his path. “Look me in the eye and tell me _honestly_ that you don’t have a concussion and I’ll set up the teleportation coordinates myself.”

Damian gripped the tablet hard enough the casing began to creak but remained silent.

“And _that_ is why we’re not letting you disassemble your molecules right now.”

“That and we’re not allowed in Paris,” Tim pointed out.

Jason snorted. “Please. Who here really cares about that part?”

* * *

Despite the fact that she was currently here as a distraction for an akuma who was obsessed with her, the date was actually kind of… nice.

If it had just been Nathaniel and not Evillustrator she would have even called the night good.

Unfortunately she was and he wasn’t.

Chat remained just out of sight as promised. Marinette could feel him, a prickling sensation at the edge of her senses. Between that and the staticky lighting feeling of the akuma drawing up mood music on her left her nerves were wound tighter than a violin string.

“It was a really _bright_ idea to go on a boat ride.”

“You really think so.”

“Totally! Being with you really _lights_ up my life.”

“I’m so glad you feel that way. I– I’ve like you for a really long time now.”

“I feel like I’ve been _drawn_ to you for a really long time too. It just took till now to see the _light._ ”

_Come on Chat, take the hint._

Chat was clearly not understanding what she was trying to say to him.

_Bet he’d understand it if I was in spots right now._

This was taking too long. And even if Chat did suddenly figure out what she was trying to get across there were too many light sources on the boat. She needed to get the Evillustrator disarmed now. “Can I draw you something special for your birthday?”

“That would be amazing.”

Maybe she could handle this without everything going south.

“Marinette. Give me my pencil back. We have an uninvited guest.”

Then again, maybe not.”

* * *

Damian’s heart was going to leap out of his throat.

Marinette had made an attempt for the pen.

An ultimately failed attempt.

And now the akuma’s wrath was focused on her.

He grabbed Jason’s arm. “What is he saying.”

“He’s… uh… Chloé. He definitely said Chloé.”

“Whatever it was she didn’t like it.”

“I think he accused her of being like Chloé.”

“Sheesh. No wonder she’s mad. I wouldn’t like that either.”

Damian ignored the commentary going on around him. Marinette was in danger. Chat wasn’t sufficient protection and Ladybug had _still_ yet to appear.

The Evillustrator drew a box, trapping Chat Noir and Marinette within it. Then he erased part of the boat. Damian’s grip on the tablet he’d never set down tightened.

The Evillustrator walked over to the box. He erased a hole in it as well and pulled Marinette out before resealing it, leaving Chat Noir to his fate. He bounded off, Marinette struggling in his grip.

* * *

“I’m taking back my promise! Chloé’s gonna get a little lesson that she’ll never forget.” The Evillustrator erased part of the box he’d just trapped her and Chat in, grabbing her arm. “And you’re coming with me!”

“What? Hey!” Marinette twisted in his grip, struggling to get away. This was not good this was really, really not good. Chat was trapped and with Evillustrator taking her with him there’d be no Ladybug to save things either. “Let go!”

The Evillustrator ignored her, dragging her away.

Her last sight of the barge was of Chat Noir banging his hand against the side of his prison as the boat sank around him.

* * *

Damian couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Both took too much time. He needed to focus. He needed to _find her._

He **_had to find her._**

“I’ve got her!”

Damian all but shoved Stephanie out of the way to get to the monitor. The screen showed the outside of Le Grand Paris. The Evillustrator was forcing his way into the building, Marinette still held in his grip.

She was unharmed.

She was alright.

Damian could breathe again.

She was still captured though. There had to be _something_ he could do. If he hacked into the hotel’s mainframe maybe… Except if he did anything or set off any alarms there was the possibility all that would do was provoke him into rash violence.

Chat Noir arrived at the hotel balcony. Damian gripped the console tight enough to turn his knuckles white. There was nothing he could do.

He had to trust Chat Noir to save her.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He knocked it off and turned around, expecting Father or Dick or failing that perhaps Alfred having come down from upstairs. Instead Tim was standing there, hand still outstretched. “Hey,” he said, stepping back out of Damian’s range. “There is no way in hell that any soulmate of yours is not capable of handling anything that gets thrown at her. There is absolutely no way the universe looked at _you_ and went yeah let’s give him a delicate little mouse.”

“He’s right you know,” Steph said, hoisting herself up onto the table.

This time it was Dick’s hand on his shoulder. “She’s going to be alright.”

“But– It’s _Marinette._ ”

Jason leaned against the wall. “Welcome to loving trouble magnets. It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“I think she’ll be alright sooner than you think,” Bruce said. He gestured to the monitor behind Damian. When he turned to look a million ladybugs were spiraling out over Paris in a healing wave of magic. Only a few moments later Marinette appeared on the balcony, gazing up at the sky.

It was over.

She was safe.

* * *

Marinette let her transformation fall away and slipped onto the balcony, ready to reappear from where she’d hidden after getting away from the Evillustrator. In the corner of her eye she caught a flash down on the street below from Chat’s transformation. She tilted her head up to avoid any temptation. She probably wouldn’t be able to see anything from this far away but her partner deserved the consideration. Especially after everything he’d done today.

“Get _Out_ of my _room!!”_ And there was Chloé. Shrieking like a banshee. Right on time. “You too _Dupain-Cheng!”_ Marinette rolled her eyes but dutifully stepped away from the railing to head for the door. As if she’d want to spend any more time here.

Nathaniel was standing awkwardly in the doorway. He blinked at her in confusion. She smiled and gave a little wave of greeting as she came up to him.

“And take this with you!” A yellow notebook week flying at their heads as the door slammed closed, forcing them to duck. 

“Thanks Chloé,” she muttered, stooping to pick the notebook up. Before she could reach it Nathaniel picked it up and held it out for her. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I– I’m sorry you got caught in the attack. I guess I did some real damage.” He glanced down at the notebook. “Were you here working on a project or something?”

Mariette rubbed the back of her head. Oh boy. “Actually… Evillustrator sort of kidnapped me and brought me here…”

“I did? I’m so sorry–”

“…after he got mad at me when Chat Noir crashed the date he’d set up for me.”

All the color drained from Nathaniel’s face. “I what?” he squeaked.

“Hey don’t worry about it!” Marinette cried darting forward. “Akuma’s do weird things all the time! It’s totally not your fault!”

Nathaniel still looked like he might pass out. Marinette flipped open her bag and shoved the notebook in for something to do that wasn’t looking at him. Inside was a familiar sketchbook.

“Actually,” she pulled the sketchbook out and held it out to him. “Here.” Nathaniel froze, staring at the notebook. “I gave it to you, well, akuma you, earlier but then it got left behind and I guess when Ladybug’s magic fixed everything it ended up back in my bag. So happy birthday.”

“You– You got me a present?”

“Well sure. I knew your birthday was coming up soon but I wasn’t quite sure when or else I would have brought it with me to school this morning.”

Nathaniel jolted. “You mean you got this for me before all of this?” He carefully accepted the sketchbook, holding it like it was made out of spun glass. “You didn’t just get it because I– he– made you feel like you had to?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean, of course I got you a birthday gift Nathaniel. You’re such a good artist and last week when you were showing me your sketchbook I noticed that it was almost full and I thought– I was planning to get you some more drawing pencils too but I was going to buy them this afternoon and then with everything that happened I kind of never got a chance.

Nathaniel was still staring at the sketchbook like it was the most valuable thing he’d ever seen. “Marinette, I–” He looked up at her. “Thank you.”

He glanced down at the sketchbook one more time before suddenly he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Marinette, would you like to, sometime… that is, if you’re not busy, would you maybe ever want to… with me?”

_Oh boy._

“Oh! Uh! That’s very– I mean, you’re a great person and a great friend and anybody would– It’s just that– I um… Me– And you– Well you see–”

“You’ve got someone else you like, don’t you?”

Marinette let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Yeah.”

Nathaniel nodded to himself looking sad but accepting. He stroked his fingers along the spine of the sketchbook before looking back at her. “Have you told him?”

Adrien’s face flashed before her eyes.

“No.” Adrien’s green eyes became Chat’s and then Chat’s smile morphed into Damian’s. Marinette shook her head violently, trying to dispel the image. The after-image of Damian’s smile remained. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well whoever he is, he’d be an idiot to turn down you.”

“Thanks Nathaniel. And I’m sorry about–”

Nathaniel cut her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll find someone else. Someone almost as miraculous as you.”

* * *

_Bonjour Damian. Alya promised she wouldn’t post about that part on the Ladyblog but, well, she might be the best but she’s not the only news source or blogger in town and I don’t know whether anyone else caught any of it and if it had gotten back to you I didn’t want you to worry._  
_So. We had another akuma attack. Although I guess that’s hardly news anymore, is it? But uh, yeah. It was Nathaniel. I’ve told you about him before. He got akumatized on his birthday, can you imagine? I can’t picture a worse day to get akumatized on. But anyway he got akumatized and I got caught up in it. Literally. But I was fine, I promise. Ladybug and Char Noir had a plan the whole time and Chat was there to save me. Mainly I just wanted to reassure you I was fine in case you’d seen anything. Because that’s what a good soulmate does when something happens. They let the other know they’re alright._  
_Yes I saw your school was attacked, yes I saw you went missing for more than an hour. During a Joker attack. I know the article said you were alright but… please tell me you’re alright._  
_And, um, also, I wanted to tell you, um… well–_

* * *

_You talked for long enough you got cut off again. So I’m afraid I didn’t hear whatever it was you were trying to tell me at the end. I’m fine, I promise. I would want to know if the situation was reversed, so I should tell you I banged my shoulder rather hard during the attack. Just a bruise. But Father wants to keep me home for a few days. At least until the school’s back to rights. In the confusion I ended up down in the emergency tunnels and they ended up being sealed off. Myself and the other students ended up wandering around them until Nightwing got us out. It was really quite boring. And yes I did in fact see that there had been another akuma attack yesterday. Nathaniel, he’s the same one you were taking about a few days ago, isn’t he, the artist? And you still felt the need to present him with a gift. You are too good for this world Marinette. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. I know I won’t hear it but please promise me you’ll stay safe. Please. And before you ask I’ll promise too._

**Author's Note:**

> Marinette’s got about another twenty pages before the evil soulmate gets violently and narratively justifiably killed. Alya’s got about another twenty pages before she realizes she didn’t lend her friend a book so much as a paperback time bomb.
> 
> Damian’s second-in-command/assistant/the smartest of the stoners is named Kace. Just in case any of you were curious. The others are Tyler, Pearl, Emerson, and Anaya. Damian never learned them because Damian legitimately does not care.
> 
> (Cass is currently out of the country for a mission. She’s patched into the comm feed and the goons she’s in the middle of beating up are a little insulted how little she’s paying attention to them.)  
> (She’s going to hug Damian _so hard_ when she gets back, he just doesn’t know it yet.)


End file.
